


Perfectly Wrong

by Lotor_Loves_Me



Series: Lament [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Angst, BoM - Freeform, Galra Keith (Voltron), Langst, M/M, Pining Lance (Voltron), klance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-08
Updated: 2018-10-08
Packaged: 2019-07-17 19:03:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,978
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16101863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lotor_Loves_Me/pseuds/Lotor_Loves_Me
Summary: idk what i’m writing tbh. Lance Pining for Keith, igApologizing ahead of time for any confusion yo may have because I jump forwards and backwards in time a lot.Just note that the parts I put the most effort into were Lance’s thoughts on Keith’s leaving, his way of mourning/pining, and his talk with Shiro. Had to slip some Adashi in there y’all ;)





	Perfectly Wrong

**Author's Note:**

> I’m dead inside :)
> 
> Sorry for my shitty writing  
>  
> 
> hope you guys don’t lose brain cells bc of this :/
> 
>  
> 
> Song: Perfectly Wrong - Shawn Mendez

“I don’t have time for this, Lance!”

The bite in his tone gnashed at Lance. The Cuban boy didn’t flinch. Because: what’s another whip of words to the scarred and bloody flesh of a back lashed by criticism? Nothing. It’s hardly anything. Any day now, just any day, Lance would break. He wasn’t sure when. But he also wasn’t worried. He was beaten. Defeated. Fractured to the point of no return.

A thin layer of composure even less than that of a hair’s breadth was all that kept his teammates from cutting themselves on the dangerous glass edges that peeked at a multitude of levels from the stress of all the cracks. Each word was another fissure, each slander a tick closer to shattering.

 _I_ _can taste_ _the_ _poison_ _from_ _your_ _lips..._

He’d wanted to laugh. He pushed aside the suddenly painful pang of his heart within his rib cage. Of course. Of course Keith didn’t have time. They were in the middle of a war. There were other things to prioritize.

Lance missed the calculating gaze fixed on him from the only full-Galran on the ship. 

~~~

 _Me_ _and_ _you..._

Sound off. Again.

What was that going to do? Had you felt any of us move? Does it look like there’s any place for any single one of us to go? Couldn’t Keith just shut up and wait for their deaths in silence?

When Keith lashed out, caught between the bites of Hunk and Allura, something in Lance just burst. White hot anger flooded his weary system.

“Keith, you ran away!”

He viewed the boy clad in Red Paladin armor with contempt, with hatred, with anger, with compassion...

 _We_ _were_ _made_ _to_ _break..._

“Maybe, you should have just stayed away.”

~~~

Back in his lion, Lance’s mind rumbled in unsettling turmoil. He wanted to say he didn’t mean it. But he really kind of did. First, Keith walks out of their lives, without sparing them a second thought...

Okay. So, that wasn’t entirely true.

Lance meant Keith had no second thoughts about leaving him, all that time ago. With every step Keith took from their small huddle, the entity, the piece of his soul that has grown to become Keith shrunk away from Lance’s heart. When Keith turned back for that final smile, Lance’s heart strings snapped. His internal grimace was forced out as a grin.

Those doors.

When those doors closed behind Keith, something stopped. Just stopped. There was... a hole. An empty space, a void- call it what you will- but he needed to fill it. And so, he sought solace in Allura.

~~~

Then there had been Lotor.

Stupid, perfect, handsome Lotor- with his stupid, smart battle tactics and sinful grin and long hair.

Lance wasn’t an idiot. He saw every look exchanged between the prince and princess. He caught every lingering touch and soft smile and hushed whisper. He saw that he had no chance. 

That he wasn’t needed. That he wasn’t wanted. That he wasn’t longed for, yearned for. That he was useless. An extension of a greater cause, entirely irrelevant in and of its individual self. He knew all of these things, but he did not want to accept them.

 _I_ _know_ _that’s_ _true_...  
_But_ _it’s_ _much_ _too_ _late_.

He didn’t think much of it, at first.

After every breakfast and team meeting, Lance found himself in the middle of the training room.

For the team, he said.

He peeled off his chest plate and helmet, keeping only the bottoms of his armor on, even removing his shoes.

A large circle would reveal itself, a rather large robot raised on a pedestal rising from within. The bot steps off the pedestal and the floor closes, the mysterious speaker voice gives him a count down. When the bot lunges, Lance hardly bats an eye, swinging his sniper rifle upwards and rapidly pressing down upon the trigger four times.

It’s almost pitiful, he thinks, as he watches the bot’s two legs and two arms disconnect from the rest of it’s body, and vaporize before they clatter to the ground. He jumps a few levels higher.

Another bot appears, no physical changes from the structure of the last bot. This bot, on the other hand, was smarter, it seems. It didn’t run straight at Lance, rather, it backed away. It backed away and moved tactically- zigzagging constantly, a rather aggravating target.

Infuriated, Lance growls. He swings his sniper rifle in a wild arc and with the sudden change of his stance, his weapon glows- and shifts. A medium length and double-edged blade extends from the grip of his bayard. Lance, unfazed by the sudden switch, pushes off, charging his opponent. He grows furious.

Furious at the sim bot for running, or tactically retreating or whatever. Furious at the way it’s actions seem to parallel his own when faced with his feelings.

He nears the bot in tics, swing his sword wildly yet precisely, in motions that are easily familiar- despite him never having used a sword in his life. Lance pushed the thought aside focusing on demolishing the bot- and the one after it, and the one after and the one after,

If it hadn’t been for Shiro walking in and physically interrupting his altercation with the sim bot, Lance would’ve gone for who knows how many hours longer. Shiro’s Galran arm placed methodically on his shoulder guided him out of the room, and only then, did the realization hit him.

Keith.

It was all Keith.

When he was frustrated, he closed himself off more than he already was. 

In Lance’s case, he simply closed himself off. He stopped the constant smiling and flirting, he stopped making jokes, he stopped expressing his emotions on the physical face of reality.

Keith expresses his emotions through actions. In the castle, that mainly took the form of anger and frustration, and was only released in the training room- which he’d occupied at all ungodly hours of morning and night. He’d train so much, push himself so far, that he’d miss meals and completely dip out on his sleep schedule.

Lance had begun to fall into the same habit.

But why? Was this his subconsciousness’ way of filling that unnecessary gaping hole in the plot of his life? Was he turning himself into Keith just so things would feel relatively normal again? Or was this... something else?

~~~

He’d just showered, and now, he was standing at Keith’s door.

 _You’re_ _perfectly_ _wrong_ _for_ _me_...

He stepped slowly into the room, the doors closing quickly behind him. The instant he was indeed alone, he let his body crumple in on itself. Broken, ugly sobs were torn from his mouth and echoed in the deafeningly silent room. He staggered to the neatly made bed, and threw himself down upon it. The red leather jacket hanging on the bedpost was yanked down, and brought up to his face with shaking hands.

 _That’s_ _why_ _it’s_ _so_ _hard_ _to_ _leave_.

His signature scent now overpowered what had been left of Keith’s.

_You’re perfectly wrong for me._

Curled on Keith’s former bed and crying all the liquid contents of his body out, Lance had somehow never felt more at peace in the past months. The fingerless gloves the boy had donned 24/7 lay disregarded on the floor. Everything in the room was exactly how Keith had left it, now with the exception of the rumpled sheets on the bed. 

The space around him, though so empty and silent, was somehow packed with a tiny hint of life. A small little wisp of the funky, atrociously sarcastic, mullet-haired boy lived on in this room. Lance’s lips curved, but only just.

He... he missed Keith.

__

_All the stars in the sky could see,_

_Why you’re perfectly wrong for me..._

~~~

When had it become so easy to just ignore people?

Lance wondered briefly, when he stepped out of Keith’s room for what was now the seventeenth day in a row, brushing past Pidge in the hall and making his way to the dining room.

He avoided everybody’s eyes even as Coran expertly serviced them with small talk, yet that seemed to further warrant attention to him.

“Lance, are you feeling alright, lately?” Allura prodded gently.

“Of course, I feel fine. Anything less than, and I’d jeopardize the team, Princess.” He responds immediately, with a half-hearted nod.

“Bullshit!” A lighter voice throws in.

“Pidge-” Shiro starts with a stern gaze at the younger girl.

“Just wait, Shiro,” the Green paladin begs, then fixes her eyes intensely on Lance. “How long?” She asks.

“How long what?” Hunk asks, clearly confused.

“How long are you going to keep going like this, Lance?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Lance answers gruffly, nudging his empty plate forward.

“No, Pidge has a point.” Shiro adds. “You’ve been... off. You’ve been training a lot more, you’re being serious-”

“Gee, thanks. Glad to know I’ve made such a drastic improvement.” Lance mutters, and the other all raise their brows.

“Excuse me?” Shiro asks, with a dad tone, as if he misheard.

“No,” Lance says, “Excuse _me_.” He pushes his chair from under the table and stands, turning and beginning to walk away.

A small hand closes around his wrist.

“How long are you going to keep it up, Lance? How long are you going to barricade yourself in the training room, close yourself off from us, skip out on meals and sleep, _sleep in his room_?” Pidge presses fiercely.

“I don’t know! Okay? I don’t know!” Lance yells.

“Lance...” Allura reaches for his retreating form.

“No. Just... just leave me alone.” He says, hastily stalking off.

A short silence stretched across the dining table.

“Alone is the last thing he should be, right now.” Hunk sighs, pushing away from the table, his plate only half-finished.

“Hunk,” Shiro says, also pushing away from the table. “You finish eating. I’ll go and talk to him.” 

Hunk viewed their leader with obvious uncertainty but eventually sighed again, and sank back into his chair, nodding.

“I’ll be back soon,” Shiro tells Allura, before exiting and turning to the right.

~~~

As Shiro racked his brain and thoughts for something, anything useful he could say to the young paladin, he ended up not paying any attention at all to where he was heading. Because of course, he’d never thought to ask Hunk and Pidge where Lance might have gone.

Yet, he stood on the bridge, the large holographic map of all the galaxies in the universe swirling around him. Lance sat in the middle of the observation deck, fingers whirling mindlessly, spinning one small planet around his fingertips. 

Shiro’s whole demeanor softened when he recognized the small green-blue orb in Lance’s hand. 

“Hey, buddy.” Shiro’s said, sitting down near him.

“Hey Shiro. Sorry about earlier,” Lance started. “I don’t really know what got into me.”

“It’s alright Lance...”

They sat in silence for a bit, Lance only offering Shiro a hum as the older man forgave him.

“How long have you been sleeping in his room, Lance?” Shiro suddenly asks.

Lance ducks his head down.

“A little over two weeks now,” Lance returns. “And trust me, I know how ridiculous I’m being. It’s just that I can’t seem to stop! After every meal, every exercise, every shower and in my spare time, I find myself right back where I started- in his room, wrapped up in his jacket and curled up on his bed, talking to the walls as though they’re him.”

Shiro listened intently, piecing and stringing together every little bit of information and emotion that Lance was spilling out to him. 

“And more recently: I just feel like the world’s not quite functioning, you know? And even thought we’re rivals and we hate each other, I’d give anything for him to just send in a transmission, and request for us to open up the hangars and let him in. I’d gladly give anything... just for the world to make sense again...”

Lance’s voice dropped off, and Shiro found himself struck by how deeply Lance was opening up- no doubt due to how he’d been locking it all away.

“Ah-hem,” Lance randomly coughed. “Sorry about that, dude! Don’t know where that came from. It probably didn’t even make sense to you. It’s training time isn’t it? I’ll go get my gear, sir, don’t let me make you la-” Lance starts to babble and makes to rise, but Shiro grabs his wrist and pulls him back down.

“That... made more sense to me than you could ever imagine.” Shiro spoke softly.

Lance’s sudden enthusiasm stuttered, and he looked to the ground.

“We all miss Keith, but Lance, you... you’re incomplete, without him. Judging from that heartfelt speech, however, I don’t think you at all need me to tell you that,” Shiro laughed a little. “Lance, it’s okay to not have a rival. Not all heroes had rivals, and look, admittedly, there are many areas in which you are more developed than Keith. Like he isn’t the greatest at sharing his thoughts or feelings. This talk we’re having right now? I could never speak this way with Keith.” 

“He told me a story once,” Lance suddenly interjected, “It was about... about you and Professor Wallace...”

“Oh, Adam?” Shiro smiled fondly, but the gesture held five tons of sadness behind it. “He told you that much about his past, huh? Guess he doesn’t hate you after all...” Shiro flipped a 180, grinning slyly at Lance.

“While we’re talking deep and spiritual and all that,” Lance said. “How... did you know that you were, um-”

“Gay?”

“Y-yeah...”

“There wasn’t really any process, in my experience, if I’m honest. I never had an interest in any single girl. Sure, I knew when girls were pretty, but I just didn’t _care_. At the Garrison, I was never distracted, because girls couldn’t distract me. But Adam... well he did just that. The day we met was the day I’d finally been assigned fighter class, and I was almost two years younger than all of the other newcomers, including Adam.

I’m sure you could tell how he must’ve felt about being stuck with the ‘pilot prodigy’, as a partner and roommate. It was interesting, that’s for sure, when Iverson made note to tell him that he was but my copilot, and that he was, in no way, to impact or impede my flight. The two of us contstantly scored off the charts on the flight tests, and as a result, we became popular. However, neither Adam nor I liked crowds very much, so we tended to head back to our room as often as possible. 

There, we really got to know each other. After days of hiding out in there from the mobs of students, it became more of a hangout. I don’t remember when we really became more than friends, but a few years in and we had both been re-classed. Adam was to become a military-grade fighter pilot, while I diverted to becoming a pilot for the space expeditions. In dong so, we were assigned new roommates, and mine was Matt Holt. 

One evening, in our first week of our new trainings, Adam stopped by room on his way back to his own. We chatted in the halls for a bit, and we drifted closer and closer, and suddenly, he kissed me. It was a little short, but the I still remember the faint pink dusting his tanned cheeks and the crack in his voice when he called goodnight, before disappearing quickly around the corner. I’m pretty sure Matt actually has it all in a recording.” Shiro smiled, amusedly.

Lance was silent.

It was all just a tad surreal to him. Professor Adam Wallace, Lance’s favorite professor and mentor, the man who stuck up for him against his bullies- had been dating Takashi Shirogane. As Lance’s mind conjured up scene after scene of which Shrio had described, the people of his mind seemed to shift. The two he visualizes were no long Adam or Shiro, Adam looked like him, and Shiro... Shiro was Keith.

“I...” Lance echoed.

Shiro smiled at him, the way a mother would at her innocent child.

“I think... I think I love him, Shiro.”

“I figured as much. But I’m honored to have been part of this realization, Lance.”

_Oh, and why can’t I quit..._

“But...” Lance said, voice growing colder and distant, in a way that made Shiro tense. “He just... left us. Left me.”

_when you break my heart open?_

Shiro drops all his walls immediately at this. _That’s_ what this has been all about, from the start. Lance, who in his mind, had built up a rivalry (one-sided) with Keith, was lonely. He felt betrayed, he felt empty, he felt used, and all by somebody he’d grown a fate-ruled attachment to. He missed the boy he loved, with all his heart, soul, and quintessence.

_I need you more than I know!_

Lance turned, throwing himself against Shiro. His head was pressed to Shiro’s bicep, and Shiro felt hot tears platter against his forearm. He sobs and Shiro murmurs, rubbing his back soothingly.

“He’s gone, Shiro.” Lance wailed. “And with where we are? Who knows if he’ll ever make it back?”

With that, Shiro felt a small bit of him break. Light footsteps filtered into his hearing, and the rest of those aboard the castle ship entered the room. Pidge, Hunk, Coran and Allura each dropped to their knees besides the two, attempting to relax Lance through their warmth.

“Does... anyone want to hear stories about Keith?”

Lance snorted and laughed weakly: “M-me.”

“Me too!” Hunk grinned.

“Why pass up blackmail material?” You know who that was.

“Sounds lovely.” Allura agreed.

And though only one person could really be the fix to Lance, he was starting to feel a little better.

**Author's Note:**

> here’s an update y’all.
> 
> also ima make this a series.
> 
> just of angst.
> 
> because i’m dead inside
> 
> thanks for reading, loves


End file.
